“Virgil Nevillestone.” Hatred and thirst for the man’s blood consumed Nash.
“Yes. Virgil Nevillestone. My husband’s best friend, who had always stayed close to me and Sophie. I thought it was because of his friendship with David. But as it turned out, the man possessed an unhealthy obsession for me.” She bowed her head, and her voice broke. “And that obsession became quite alarming after I made the mistake of allowing him into my bed for a night that I wish never happened.”
“Why didn’t you tell me all this before?” Nash opened and closed his fists, aching to smash something. “Youarrangedfor Queen Charlotte to make me the earl and forced Sophie to marry me with the assistance of a madman to threaten her life?”
“Sophie loved you.” Lady Nia stared at him as if those three words explained everything. “I knew, if you could learn to love her, that you and she might discover the joy her father and I had.” She jutted her chin upward again. “And I was not aware of the extent of Nevillestone’s madness until he tried to stone her and then hired a shooter. I did everything I knew to stop him.” She fisted her hands and moved closer. “I offered to marry him even, but he laughed in my face and said it was too late.”
“Why did you not tell me?” Nash roared. “I could have tracked the man down and ended him.”
“I sent men after him,” she said, her tone defensive and shrill. “I almost killed him twice myself, but he escaped.”
He couldn’t hold back any longer. He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a hard shake. “Why did you not tellme?” He shook her again. “Me? Your daughter’s husband? I had the right to know!”
Her tears slipped free and rolled down her cheeks. “I didn’t want Sophie to know how I failed her. How I had risked her life and lost control of the situation.”
He shoved her away and turned aside, too angry to even look at her for fear of what he might do. “And now he has her,” he said with a ragged breath. “He has the woman I love.” He turned and jabbed a shaking finger at her. “I want you gone from here by the time I return with her.”
“I want to come with you.”
“You have done enough, dowager countess. Quite enough indeed.”
He charged out of the parlor and headed for Sophie’s workroom to load up on weapons. He selected a pair of pistols and secured them under his coat, thanking the powers that his brilliant wife always kept everything loaded and ready. He belted on a sword, snatched up a rifle, then broke into a run and took the shortest route to the stables. As he burst out of the garden and crossed the mews, he bellowed, “My horse, Mr. Wallace! Now!”
Unable to stand idly by while the groom readied his mount, Nash helped the man, stashed the rifle in the saddle’s special holster, then leapt onto the horse. Just as he exited the mews and turned onto the street, Tomes galloped into view.
“This way, my lord!” The guard turned his beast in the middle of the street and waved for Nash to follow. “Forthrite sent me back to show you the way,” he called out as Nash caught up with him.
“Forthrite and Freedly are still with the carriage?”
The man nodded while leaning forward to spur his animal on. “They’ve gone to the park and slowed to an amble. The men are staying close and ready to fire as soon as they can get a clear shot.”
Nevillestone’s last threatening letter came back to Nash with a vengeance:The old one dies in the channel and the young one dies in the park. I shall let the queen rot in Kew. No money or thanks necessary. Liars and deceivers dead is reward enough.
“He means to kill her there!” He spurred his horse on, cursing the conveyances clogging the thoroughfare. Curzon Street led right to Hyde Park but was not close enough for his liking. He needed to be at his precious swan’s side in the blink of an eye. A roiling gray blanket of clouds blotted out the sun, and rain cut loose as if the Almighty Himself had decided to punish Nash for his arrogance.
“There!” Tomes pointed as they galloped across the grounds, ignoring the paths and lanes. “In the middle of those trees. By the lake.”
Nash didn’t slow as he pulled a pistol free and readied it to fire. The hackney had come to a standstill beneath a massive oak. The driver sat hunched over against the storm with his collar pulled up high and his hat pulled low. The team of two horses stood with their heads lowered against the deluge.
Due to the blinding rain, Nash couldn’t make out anything through the back window of the carriage other than shadows. At least there appeared to be two people in an upright position, although they both sat very still.
“Damn and blast it all!” He tossed all caution to the wind, motioning for Tomes and the other two men to cover the driver in case the man had been armed by Nevillestone. He eased up beside the carriage and drew up even with the door. When he yanked it open, his blood ran cold.
The blackguard sat with the tip of his pistol tucked under Sophie’s chin. Pale as death, she stared straight ahead clutching her reticule in her lap.
“Lord Rydleshire,” the devil drawled with a baleful smile. “Virgil Nevillestone at your service, and I would like to thankyou for making this part of my plan go ever so much easier.” He nudged Sophie’s throat with the gun’s barrel and wheezed out a haughty chortle. “I had not quite worked out how to get fickle Nia’s daughter to join me in a final ride.” He wrinkled his sharp nose as though suddenly smelling something foul. “Lover’s spat, you understand, and this upstart of a chit always sided with her mother.” He chuckled. “At least, until she decided she could no longer trust her—thanks to you, my lord.”
“Let her go, and I will consider allowing you to live,” Nash said. “My men and I have you surrounded.”
“Let her go?” Nevillestone barked with amusement. “You are most entertaining, my lord.” All humor left the man, and pure evil shone in his eyes. “There is no power on this earth that could convince me to allow this spoiled bit of skirt to live.”
Nash ground his teeth until his jaws ached, ignoring the sound of a horse approaching at a hard gallop. With his pistol trained on Nevillestone, he pulled his rifle from its sheath and aimed it at the man as well. “There will be nothing left of you to bury if you harm her.”
“You think I care?” the man sneered, but then his expression filled with so much rage that he shook as if chilled to the bone. “I told you it was too late,” he growled through bared teeth.
“Let her go and take me instead,” Lady Nia called out. Her nervous mount danced back and forth on the other side of Nash’s horse, mirroring the tension of its rider. “You hateme, Virgil. Not her.”
Nevillestone made a moue of distaste and shook his head. “Decidedly wrong, my lady. I hate you both.” He cast a jerking nod in her direction. “Although I do admit to hating you more than I despise her.”
